


fire meet gasoline

by untilwefallinlove



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, Light Smut, One Shot, Superpowered Reader, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 19:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilwefallinlove/pseuds/untilwefallinlove
Summary: You kiss her, twine yourself around her as the cosmos of magenta and blue, of burning stars and planets and moons hang around you. The universe turns on, and it’s just you two against the entirety of the galaxy.(Snapshots of the way in which you and Carol went from despising each other to falling in love).





	fire meet gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i usually write bucky or steve x reader fics and absolutely no one asked for this but im a disaster bisexual hopelessly in love with carol danvers so here, have this one shot i did! there will probably be more in the future, especially if people end up enjoying this one! please let me know what you think of this :D
> 
> come say hi to me on tumblr @ until-we-fall-in-love

You meet Carol Danvers on a planet far, far from your own home. The sky is violet and bruised magenta, a streak of vermilion, until it settles into a deeply, rich blue. Most of the planet is covered in glittering, shallow water that reflects the colors of the sky. As above, so below. Pockets of dry land, dips in the earth where the water grows deeper and deeper and you can no longer stand on two legs. You know not what lurks below. 

And you don’t think you want to find out. 

You’d been residing here for a few years now, living a simple life in a metal and wooden bungalow that is raised above the shimmering water. You protect the locals from time to time. But for the most part, you wanted to disappear. And so you had. 

Of course, when a threat comes to this measly planet, proclaiming their doctrines of overtaking it and the people, you know you’ll have to fight. You haven’t fought in a few years; haven’t used your powers in their entirety for just as long. But you can’t just run away, you just  _ can’t _ turn away from this fight and find another barren, simple planet to live peacefully on for the rest of your days. Not this time. 

So you surge up, drawing from the inferno within you until you glitter and glow silver and white. You streak the sky with it, a blazing star, a shimmering dash. You were born from the inside of a star, cradled by the cosmos, made too-strong, too-hot, too destructive. You didn’t want to fight; but you would if you had to. 

No one is prepared for your strength, the sudden power surge, least of all the one that’d come to colonize the planet. It takes you little time to blaze through him; he can’t even touch you without blisters coming away on his large, ugly hands. He may be twice your size, but you fly and zip around him, blasting him with white hot, starbursts until he is nothing but ash in the swirling, troubled water. 

You breathe hard. Tired. You haven’t used your powers like that in  _ years. _ Your feet return to shallow water, touching down on the earth. And then out of  _ nowhere, _ there’s a burst in the atmosphere. A comet streaks across the sky, twirling orange, gold, so hot it shudders blue. And it hurtles straight for  _ you. _

You raise your arms, go silver and hot and trembling with energy to brace for the impact. And when it hits, there’s a pulse on the planet, before it shutters and  _ breaks _ , shattering into spindly crevices with the force of the collision. Your head spins and you and this comet go careening away from each other with the force of your combined powers. 

When you can get back up, you see her. And she is all supernova and bursting energy and danger. Reckless grin, fluttering hair, and shockingly strong.  _ She’s _ the comet? You’ve never met  _ anyone _ who could withstand that sort of energy surge from you—

“Heard there was a threat on this planet.” She comments, darting back up into the sky, shooting towards you as if you both didn’t nearly cleave the planet in half just moments ago. You shoot up in silver, glowing light to protect yourself. Evidently, she thinks  _ you’re _ the threat, because she comes at you with a flaming fist.

And when she slams into you, it sends you hurtling into the water, which sizzles and smokes on impact. You stand, wiping your cheek which comes away with a drop of your blood; silver and glistening, like mercury. No one’s ever drawn blood on you before. You narrow your eyes at her. 

“Little late.” You hiss out, charging back up. “I took care of him.” 

She narrows her eyes now, too. And once more, with a raised fist, she arcs towards you. But this time, you’re ready.

You catch her flaming fist with a silver-furious hand of your own. 

She looks startled for a moment. Your energies push and burn against one another in white-hot, pulsing neon, blue, and flaming gold. You grit your teeth, look her in the eyes. What the  _ fuck _ is she that she can take all this heat? All this power? She hasn’t even bat an eye. 

Her other fists comes up and you grab her wrist to stop her. No blisters on her. Immovable, unflinching. “Who are you?” You half growl, “I’ve never met anyone who could take this—“

And this annoying,  _ attractive, _ smirk touches her lips, “Then meet your match, baby.” She croons, lays heavier into you with all that fury and power. You give an inch and she takes it fast and hot and hungry. And she keeps shoving, hard and rough against you until one of your knees gives out and you’re bracing her as she bares down above you. 

You draw inward, reach for all that you have inside of you. Your eyes go shocking silver, and you release a sudden, high-powered burst that flashes white and sends her flying backwards. 

That gobbles up your energy, though, and you have a harder time standing. You’re out of shape, really. Your muscles and body ache something awful, your head pulsing. Black spots dance in your vision for a moment, until you can get a few, deep lungfuls of air in.

“I’m not your enemy,” You say again, “I already decimated him.” 

She’s looking at you strangely now, curiously, apprehensively. She hasn’t powered down yet, despite the fact that your glow winks out, like a darkened star. She’s consumed by flame, glowing, vibrating with such an electrifying energy that you think you’re dizzy with it. She’s a  _ goddess, _ you think, she  _ has _ to be. She wavers in your failing vision. 

“Then who are you?” She demands. 

You sigh. Weary and tired. 

“They used to call me Nova.” You say, before you let the darkness sweep in and consume you. 

* * *

When you wake, you are no longer on that little, watery planet that you’d made a makeshift home out of. You’re in a darkened ship, laying on this small, uncomfortable sort of bed that is attached to the wall. You blink, hazy, whole body fatigued. A part of you wants to let your eyes fall shut again, let sleep claim you once more, but you know it’s wise to force them open. To look around. 

You groan as you sit up, body protesting. Your vision swims for a moment, before it steadies and you catch the outline of someone in a pilot’s chair, sitting in front of a wide window that reveals the vastness of deep space. 

“You’re awake,” Says a vaguely familiar voice. It takes a moment to place, but when you do—

“Why did you take me?” You demand suddenly, fear rising quick and sharp inside of you. You try to stand and thank every star in the universe that she hasn’t bound you in some way. But your body betrays you, your knees buckle. 

She’s up in an instant, flipping the ship into autopilot. The girl that had slammed into you on your planet, all-powerful and stunning, comes to your side. No powers now. No slick suit with the star across her chest. She’s just in a white t-shirt, tucked into baggy, tactile pants. 

“Uh, because I saved you.” She replies, moving to grab you. 

You try to twist away, burning with a twinkling, pretty sort of glow that is all you can muster in your weakened state. It does nothing to your captor. But she does give you space, holding up her hands as if to show she means no harm. And when she looks you over with a slow roaming of her eyes, you feel your cheeks suddenly warm. 

“I already took care of the threat.” You snap, feeling defensive and hot. She’s looking too closely and you can’t read the look in her eyes.  _ “Why did you take me?”  _

“Yeah, I figured that out.” She replies, still studying you, “But you were in rough shape when you passed out. You needed care and none of the locals could touch you without being burned so…” 

“So you  _ took _ me?” 

She rolls her eyes, “Well, yeah. I don’t have time to stay on that planet  _ and _ I have the care you need.” She finally turns away from you and heads back towards the captain’s chair, all tense shoulders and irritation, “Don’t act like I chained you up. You’re free to go when you feel better.” And now she glances over her shoulder with raised, arrogant eyebrows, “Which, you don’t yet.” 

“I’m fine.” You snap, even though you contradict yourself by wobbling backwards, back onto the bed. Your glow stutters, then disappears. 

She scoffs and it makes you bristle, but an uncomfortable, prickly sort of silence overcomes the ship. She resumes her place as captain, to flying the ship. She’s right. You know it. She knows it. You  _ hate _ it. 

“Who are you, anyways?” You finally ask, quieter, a little resigned. 

For a moment, you think she’s going to ignore you. But then she glances over her shoulder again, “They call me Captain Marvel.” And she turns back to face the swirling cosmos right outside the ship. You can see her reflection in the glass, shimmering and distant, “But you can just call me Carol.” 

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you take her admittance in and then, you surprise yourself by offering up your own,  _ human _ name, too. Not Nova, not the alias they gave you, but the one given to you by parents in a mundane sort of way. The one you have not given anyone since disappearing into space. 

“Human?” You ask and you catch the slight smirk on her lips. 

“Technically, I guess.” And then, “Are you?” 

“Technically.” 

And her smirk grows more into a slow, pretty smile. 

* * *

You fall asleep again, lulled by the hum of the ship, dragged down by your fatigue and weakness. When you wake again later, Carol is still sitting in the captain’s chair, but she’s dozing off now, too. You blink and realize she’s given up the only bed on board the ship to you. 

You sit up again and your head still pounds, but you don’t feel nearly as tired as you did earlier. But you could use food, water, anything to get some of your energy back. Shakily, you stand once more, in search of food. You dig through cupboards and drawers and manage to come up with a granola bar and a half eaten bag of trail mix. Earth food. Human food that you haven’t seen in years. 

She wakes to the sound of the crinkling wrapper. You expect her to snap something out, but instead, she seems almost pleased. In fact, she even adds, “We’re stopping for fuel and food soon.” 

You chew around the (stale) granola bar, swallowing down a chunk of it. “Okay,” You say, and then, “You can just leave me on this next planet.” 

She stands, moves to dig into the bag of trail mix that rests beside you on the bed once more. “You’re feelin’ better already?” Then she presses, “And you don’t even care what planet it is?”

You shrug slightly, “I’ll find somewhere to settle. I don’t need your help any longer.” 

She gives you a look, popping a few peanuts and chocolate chips into her mouth. “You don’t have to be so stubborn, ya know. You  _ can _ stay. It’s nothing to me.” 

And for some reason, this irritates you. Perhaps it’s the insinuation that she believes you still need her help. You don’t. And quite frankly, you wouldn’t have needed her in the first place if she hadn’t crashed into you like a reckless meteorite pretending she was some righteous savior to the planet you’d been on. 

“I’m leaving on the next planet.” You declare and there is no room for argument in your tone. 

But Carol, nevertheless, argues you. Suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere, she snaps, “What are you running from?” 

Your eyebrows hitch upwards, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” And her eyes glow in that ethereal way. She buzzes with energy and emotion. “You’re  _ wicked _ strong and you’re just going to reside on some nowhere planet? Acting like you don’t know how to fight? Acting like you  _ belong _ in all these  _ mundane—“  _

“Oh you come hurtling out of the air like some  _ savior _ and think you know  _ anything _ about me?” You burst, rippling with your own energy now. You’re still weak but you’re getting stronger. 

“I know you’re wasting your powers on doing  _ nothing _ .” She fires back, all heat and power and dominance. 

“Oh,  _ spare me _ the righteous hero speech,  _ Captain Marvel.”  _

“Why? Does it make you feel guilty for being passive,  _ Nova?”  _

The sudden, sharp and hot burst of energy comes from you. Hits her directly in the chest. She doesn’t even move. But she gets all fired up around her hands, fists great balls of energy. 

“You wanna go again?” She taunts, too cocky for her own good. You know you wouldn’t win this one, not when you’re still exhausted. Not when you’re so out of shape. But  _ fuck _ she makes you see  _ red.  _

_ “ _ You want me to destroy your ship?” You shoot back, glowing bright and glittering again. 

“I’ll get a new ship.” 

And you surge suddenly, anger blinding you, seizing you. You go crashing through the side of the ship together, wall crumbling under the impact and the pressure of deep space. It sucks you both out, sharp and fast into the twirling, void of the universe. You shimmer into your abilities, try and right yourself, breathe deep with the protection of your powers. 

Carol glows orange and gold, flickers light blue and purple. Like too-hot flames. Gold to your silver. You both level each other with a look, fists glowing, eyes gleaming sharp and hungry and  _ angry. _ You realize, faintly, that she’s the only person you’ve ever met that could fly off into deep space with you, in the stars, in the middle of the universe. 

Maybe she realizes it, too. 

But you surge with all that you have, humming, shooting towards her like a star. 

She blasts you with all that power and it slows you, but you use all that you have in you to get to her. And you go tumbling through the air, through magenta and blue and vastness. You fight with everything you have, until you’re both wrestling, streaking through space in a twirl of glowing colors and energy. There’s almost no art anymore, just fists and raw energy. 

A planet, looming and big rests not far from you both. The atmosphere threatens to tug you both into gravity as you fight. You glow bright and hot, realize you must be putting on some spectacular light show for the poor souls that reside on the planet beneath you. 

You don’t have much left in you. Too exhausted. She hits you a little too hard, slick silver blood dripping down your nose and curling into floating space. And you wink out, eyes fluttering, and drop like a stone into the planet’s atmosphere, into gravity. Air rushes in your ears as you fall, heart swooping low. You black out.

Carol shoots for you, fast, and with everything she has. She breaks the upper atmosphere too fast, a loud  _ pop _ faintly echoing in your ears. But she catches you, swoops fast and quick until you’ve collided, reckless and hard. 

But she’s got you, she’s got you, she tells you. 

_ I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I shouldn’t have done that— But I’ve got you now. _

Your eyes flutter against your cheeks, glancing up at her, watching her face; beautiful and strong, furrowed brows, concern tracing the edges. Your head lolls, tucking into her neck, against her collar bones. She holds you tighter, gliding through the air until she touches ground.

You let darkness sweep in again, feeling a little too safe in her arms. 

* * *

You end up at some random, dirty bar on some random, scrap planet that had sucked you into its orbit when you fell. You see that she has a split lip from you— she bleeds blue. Bright, like her attitude, and you come to find, her laugh. Just like you bleed silver. Technically human, you suppose. 

You both eat your weight’s worth in gross, greasy, intergalactic food. You don’t know why you haven’t left her yet. Maybe because she paid for your meal and your drinks. 

And because she’d said, around food, all obnoxious and unladylike, “I’d kill for a burger instead of this shit.” 

A surprised, hollow laugh rasps out of you. And for once you agree, “Yeah. Me too.” 

She smiles, real wide, lopsided and confident. 

Her lip splits open all over again and now you  _ really _ laugh. 

* * *

You stay with her for the next few days, regaining your strength. You get another ship. But you vow you’ll leave her soon. She still gives up the one bed to you every night. You bicker over the  _ slightest _ issues. 

You’d learned that she traverses around the galaxy, searching to aid planets and people and  _ anyone _ that needs her. She gives all she has to this galaxy and you swear that if you liked her more, it’d be something you’d really love about her. 

But as it stands, you  _ hate _ each other. Though sometimes you think you just like seeing her angry. Sometimes you think she likes seeing  _ you _ angry. You both crackle with tension, being pulled too taunt and wound too tight.

You can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen when you both  _ snap— _

Regardless, you learn more about her, too. 

Carol Danvers. She was a pilot on Earth. She has this pager— it’s real fucking important to her. The  _ one _ time you’d touched it, she’d grown furious and had snarled out something about  _ never touching that _ and  _ mind your own business.  _

But later, when she’d cooled off and curled up in her pilot seat, and you in the bed, she’d admitted it was from a close friend of hers; emergencies only. Only if the Earth was in shambles or something. He’s never used it since she left, she says to you, voice rough and drowsy. 

“And I kinda hope he never needs to.” She tells you soft, eyes heavy and hair mussed. 

“Do you want to go back?” You don’t know where the question comes from, but you murmur it to her. 

She hums in thought and your heart flutters because she looks so soft for once, like she’d be warm and gentle and sleepy if you curled up in her lap—

“One day. Not for that, though.” She decides, “But one day.” 

The question of  _ when, when would you ever stop? _ Hangs in the air. How long can she give all of herself, her time, her energy to all of the galaxy? 

_ You can’t fix everything, _ you almost want to say,  _ when will you rest?  _

But you have an odd, prickly sort of feeling she wouldn’t rest until she was dead. A pang hits your heart, for some reason. You swallow. 

“Would you ever go back?” Carol asks, soft and hazy in the darkness.

You let out a slow breath; it’s never crossed your mind. But you answer, “I have nothing left there.” 

She doesn’t push you for once, just looks at you, until her eyes grow too heavy and her lashes flutter and you watch her fall asleep. Her hair falls into her face, golden and silk, and you have an urge to brush it away. 

But instead you turn over in your bed, notice the pager that sits across from you on a counter beside her uniform. It lays heavy there, burrows it’s way into your mind. You don’t know why, only that it brings a sense of dread to you.  _ It’s inevitable, _ your drowsy, half-thoughts whisper as you drift off. 

As if you know, that one day, she’ll need it. And she’ll go back.

* * *

Weeks go by and you find yourself still with Carol. You don’t know why you’ve stayed, don’t know why she hasn’t forced you to leave. 

You act like you both  _ despise _ each other. More enemies than friends. And yet— and yet you both stay together.

You argue and scream and bicker as if you were both made for it; you’re both combustible, volatile. The tiniest things set you both off, snapping and sparking, crackling like lightning. And yet you don’t leave. And yet she doesn’t want you to leave. 

You also never fear hurting each other. There’s no power imbalance, even if Carol likes to act all tough and dominant. There is a semblance of balance to one another. Where Carol is reckless and lopsided smirks, you’re level-headed for her. Gold to your silver. 

And when she catches word of another planet that needs her help, you join her. For the first time since knowing her, you fight  _ beside _ her and not  _ against _ her. Working together, it takes you only an hour to wipe out an invading army and their leader. You both fought hard and have the wounds and dirt to show for it. 

But you look at her from across a battlefield and think you’ve never seen anyone so fucking remarkable. 

She smiles at you, bright and too-confident. Roguish. 

“I killed more than you.” She taunts, stalking towards you, because everything’s a fucking competition between you two. 

You stay rooted in place, “Don’t lie to yourself, Danvers.” You quip back, find your own smile coming to your lips. 

You expect her to stop in front of you, you expect another teasing remark about how she’s  _ better _ or  _ stronger _ or how  _ hot _ she looked taking down all those aliens. She’s covered in their blood, eyes fever bright and shining in the darkness of the planet. But she keeps going, until she collides with you.

And her lips collide with yours. 

She kisses you hard and pressing, dominant and overwhelming. For once, you give in to her. And she half snarls against your lips when she feels you kiss back, when your arms tighten around her neck, pull her closer. 

You barely disconnect from her to get back to the ship, to slam the door behind you both and get back up into space. When it’s safely on autopilot, she just about pounces on you again, teeth clicking together with the force of her kiss. She starts shucking off your uniform, near tearing it in her eagerness. 

It’s overwhelming. It makes heat bloom low and hungry inside of you. She’s  _ everything _ and she tastes like— 

She tastes like battle and sharp, bubbling energy. You bite her lip and she groans, attacks you in another kiss.

“Shower,” You gasp into her mouth as she fists a hand into your tangled hair, “We need showers.” 

She shoves you into the small shower without preamble. The rest of both your clothes come off, are tossed aside and forgotten about as you fiddle behind you for the shower handle. Water sputters to life, raining down from the nozzle above your heads. It turns your kisses slick and wet. And she doesn’t slow, doesn’t let up on you, fingers grasping you and making you gasp and whine. 

“Thought about this since I fucking met you,” She says, heated and soft against your neck. Her hand dips low, at the apex of your thighs. And she  _ groans _ when her fingers find home. “And you’re  _ so _ eager, baby.” She teases, fingers gliding through you, making your breath come in short and sharp. Her smirk becomes crooked against the line of your neck.

“Don’t get cocky--” You gasp, but she slides inside you, cutting you off; drags a whimper out of you, eyes fluttering, in a way that makes you embarrassed and blush  _ hard.  _

“What was that?” She coos all soft and a little mocking, knowing she has you in any way she wants. It’s  _ infuriating _ and  _ hot. _ You  _ hate _ her and you  _ love _ her all at once. 

“Carol,” You groan, half-beg, head knocking against the wall of the shower as you let it fall back. 

“Say please.” She sings, playing you, stroking you, making you see stars. 

“I’m  _ not _ begging you,” You respond stubbornly, almost rolling your eyes, finger nails digging into her shoulders in retribution. 

She slows her movements to a far too languid and displeasing pace, makes you grit your teeth and try to pull her closer, try to urge her on. “Come on, baby— magic words, and I’ll do what you want.” She nearly purrs, too-smug, nipping at your ear, the line of your jaw. 

You  _ swear _ Carol Danvers is going to be the death of you. You groan again, desperate. Your hips start rocking against her fingers and she reaches with her other hand to hold you in place against the wall. You squirm, try and buck her off but she’s  _ strong. _ And you feel a little helpless, a little wild with her. 

“Please—“ You suddenly cry, “Please,  _ fuck, _ Carol, this isn’t  _ fair. _ ” 

She gives you what you want, what you need. And you burst, shattering for her, feeling as if you’re being torn in two and forged together all in one. You cry out, gripping her too tight, too hard. But it doesn’t hurt her, you don’t burn her; it just makes her hum, low and appreciative of you.

“That’s it,” She murmurs, all smug and proud, “Good girl.” She praises and you keen, not missing the smirk, the gleam in her eyes as she begins to figure out just how to unravel you.

* * *

Months fly past. Years. You and Carol are near inseparable. The occasional, notoriously bad or heated outbursts sends you off on your own for awhile, but you always return to her. And she to you. She’s your north star, your home, your everything. It’s you two against the entirety of the galaxy. Your equal in every way. You both burn too-hot, have always been too-much, never knew you just needed someone who could handle the inferno inside of you. 

And Carol’s  _ always  _ an eager lover, too teasing, too arrogant for her own good. She’s all stamina and dominance. She likes seeing you go soft and glowy against her. 

“I made you come more.” She says against your cheek, because  _ everything _ is a fucking competition between you two. You make sure to challenge that, slide down her body to where she’s most sensitive until she’s twisting and pulling at your hair and falling apart against your mouth. Carol buzzes with photon energy, shimmering and warm against you. 

Carol likes to wake you in the middle of the night, too; touch with slow, rough hands and roll you onto your stomach. She twists a hand in your hair and coos praises in your ear. You glitter silver for her, like a star in the darkness, soft and dazzling. 

“So pretty,” She tells you, “So good, baby.” All awash with awe and tenderness for you. 

There’s never any need to hold back with her, no need to worry about burns or injuries. You can give all to her and she takes it, greedily, happily. 

* * *

Sometimes you dance in the stars, leave the ship and streak across the cosmos that swirl around you both. You twine and twirl, racing, and tackling each other in the air. She collides with you, laughter on her lips, energies pushing and molding, ebbing and flowing against one another. You can  _ feel _ her. Not just her body, but the energy that consumers her. Soul deep, searing across your heart hard and reckless.

You kiss her, twine yourself around her as the cosmos of magenta and blue, of burning stars and planets and moons hang around you. The universe turns on, and it’s just you two against the entirety of the galaxy. 

* * *

You lay on her chest one night, head tucked into her neck. Her fingers run through your hair slow and tender, twirling the strands around a nimble finger. You push a hand up the plain t-shirt she has on, run a hand along the boxers she wears to bed. Your lips mouth at her collar bone—

A beeping begins to go off, resounding and echoing throughout the ship. Carol freezes. And then suddenly sits up, forcing you to move off of her. 

She mutters a curse and you can practically  _ see _ her heart drop. Her face goes pail. 

“What is it?” You ask, suddenly worried. 

She rummages around for a moment, before picking up the pager that she’s always had. Since you met her. The one that had always rested in the back of your mind; somehow knowing,  _ knowing _ this day would come. Your worst fear. But she looks at it now, worry crumpling her features.

“What is it?” You ask again anyways, voice going tight. Whatever bubble you’ve been living in with her seems to shatter to you, and perhaps you can hear the ringing of the glass breaking. 

“I need to get to Earth.” She says, decisive, quick. You knew this answer before she’d even said it. Dread had settled inside of you the moment she’d picked it up. It still makes your heart drop, though. 

“Do you want me to come?” You ask, suddenly nervous. You don’t want to be without her, nor do you want to go back to Earth. You haven’t been there in—

“No.” She shakes her head, already moving to put on her uniform. “No. Not yet.” 

For some reason, tears prick your eyes. You swallow hard to keep them down. Earth is  _ so _ far, nowhere on your radar. And her denial of you, the  _ no _ rings around in your chest.  _ Why? _ You want to demand.  _ Why not?  _

It’s all happening so fast, like whiplash, and you shimmer with your own emotions suddenly. You want to argue, to push back against her. 

But the distress on Carol’s face forces you to hold your tongue. So you move, help her get ready quietly, delicately. You dress her with the same hands you have undressed her with for all of these years. You tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, try and commit her to your memory now, as she stands before you; all Captain Marvel. 

“I’ll be in touch.” She promises, suddenly kisses you hard. It feels too much like a  _ goodbye _ for some reason and a tear of yours slips out before you can stop it, chest aching as if it might cleave open like some black void and swallow you whole. 

You nod. Once. Try and get your emotions in check. Carol’s eyes go soft, she brushes the tear away with her thumb, delicate. 

As if you sense the kind of danger she’s barreling into you, you whisper, “Come back to me.” 

Her brows furrow but she kisses you again, deep and hard and promising. You don’t want to let her go. But you do, you do.

“I will.” She vows, grabbing the back of your neck, possessive, desperate, and pressing her forehead to yours for a heartbeat. She squeezes her eyes shut, as if she’s trying to be strong, too. And then she steps away.

She opens the hangar of the ship, flares into shimmering flame and energy. 

“Kick some ass, Danvers.” You say around the lump in your throat. Force a brave smile for her. 

She looks back at you, and smiles that smile you  _ hate _ and  _ love _ all at once; crooked and roguish and arrogant. You try and burn it to your memory. 

“Stay outta trouble while I’m gone.” She tells you, then adding, smile turning sad, “I’ll be back before you know it, baby.” 

“I love you,” You tell her, heart aching, shimmering silver to her gold. 

“I love you, too.” She says, eyes glistening. 

And you watch as she takes off into the cosmos, as she leaves you with the empty, humming ship. You press your hand to the window, watch as she streaks across the sky; all supernova and bursting energy. 


End file.
